


Weightless

by brigitttt



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Zero-gravity sex, too much research into how lube works in zero G
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28237926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brigitttt/pseuds/brigitttt
Summary: "A hand tightly grips the doorframe and wisps of Laurent's hair round the corner before his face does, grimace and all. He floats hesitantly through, knuckles whitening around every handhold he manages to find. "The artificial gravity seems to be malfunctioning," Laurent says tightly, as tight as his grip looks, and Damen has to bark out a laugh."Just a simple pwp set in fantasy space.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59





	Weightless

**Author's Note:**

> I was desperate for something easy to write after finishing that big fic and this is the resulting fruit of one night and one morning of minimal labour, basically unedited. Bon appétit

Damen's feet lift off the floor between one second and the next, and he decides that it's probably best to put the knife he's cutting vegetables with back in the block for now.

"Uh, Laurent?" he calls out.

A hand tightly grips the doorframe and wisps of Laurent's hair round the corner before his face does, grimace and all. He floats hesitantly through, knuckles whitening around every handhold he manages to find. A piece of carrot knocks itself into Damen's aproned chest, and he absentmindedly covers it with his hand.

"The artificial gravity seems to be malfunctioning," Laurent says tightly, as tight as his grip looks, and Damen has to bark out a laugh.

"You think?" Damen clasps one hand to the countertop – the carrot floats off to the corner – and holds the other out for Laurent to grab onto. Laurent collides into Damen a little harder than either of them intended as Damen reels him in, and his grip slips a little on the counter from the momentum. There goes their dinner plans.

"Please tell me you know how to fix it," Laurent says, just as his foot bumps into the back of a chair, thankfully bolted to the floor. He clutches onto Damen's elbow now too, although not much shows on his face now apart from mild exasperation. "I've never been on a ship small enough to require my personal service on the mech systems."

Damen wrestles the instinct to tease with his own increasing embarrassment. "Um," he says, letting the uncertain syllable hang in the air, much like the bowl of fruit now hovering above the table. He's been on small ships with not a lot of crew before; he's been adrift in wild space and marooned on a low-grav planet and hi-jacked by particularly mischievous pirates. But he's never had to actually fix the artificial gravity systems himself.

" _Damen_ " Laurent says sternly, and then a sudden and squeaky "Ah!" as Damen releases his hold on the counter. His back comes to a surprisingly gentle rest against the far wall, next to the lock-doors to the living area. Laurent scrabbles at his shoulder with the hand not currently restricting the blood flow in Damen's own hand. He pets at Laurent's hair as it swishes above his head.

"It'll be fine," Damen says. "I think, usually, these things sort of. Sort themselves out." He declines to mention the fact that typically someone else had been there to help the sorting-out along. He lifts a hand to gently bat a spatula out of its course towards them. "The ship computer will reboot it itself, probably."

"I can't believe you," Laurent grumbles into Damen's shoulder. "I can't believe this." He perks up. "There must be a manual I can look up. Come on," and with an abrupt burst of confidence he hits the button for the door and wrangles them both through.

He releases Damen to float over to the computer terminal on the far wall, and Damen doesn't even attempt to hide his regard of the view of Laurent this gives him. He manoeuvres to the bunk instead, clinging to the edge and ignoring the pillow trying to drift upwards behind him.

Laurent hums consideringly as he scrolls through a document, but even when he finds a section to read more thoroughly, Damen can see his brows furrow. Obviously nothing much about how to fix grav systems, then. Damen tries not to hit his head on the overhang of the bunk as his body insists on floating upwards, and looks at Laurent.

They'd only met each other after most of Damen's many adventures, on the Delpha-5 outpost; Damen in desperate need of medical attention and rest after a run-in with a Mellosian skull-boar, and Laurent sitting primly at a table in the bar, clearly swindling some unsuspecting Patrans of their credits. They had not taken so kindly to Laurent's endeavours, and Damen's had been the closest ship in the landing bay, so the rest was a mixture of bickering, mutual life-saving, and history – with a bit of kissing thrown in. Why the hell not. 

"Anything yet?" Damen asks, kicking his boots off just to watch them careen through the door to the kitchen. 

Laurent huffs. "Not as much. Maybe there's something in the mech room that will help." He seems to have more or less gotten his buoyant bearings after that rocky start, but as he passes by Damen on the way out of the room, Damen's hand coming to hold his bicep knocks him out of rhythm. "What are you–" he starts, quickly halting his collision course with the bulkhead with an outstretched hand.

"Just, come here a minute," Damen says, holding on to the side of Laurent's flight-suit as he stands up, as much as that is an action possible in zero gravity. Laurent's hand comes up to rest automatically on Damen's chest, right above where Damen knows the scar from a blaster wound lies. 

"Don't tell me you're gonna try and kiss me while we're weightless," Laurent says, although his voice is pitched low, his lips already close to Damen's. "Our muscles could be starting to atrophy already."

"I won't tell you then," Damen says, quirking a cheeky smile in the way he knows for certain shows his dimple, and then leaning forward to catch Laurent on the lips. Always so soft, they open as Laurent pushes – pulls? – them both to the bunk, his head surely only missing the bulkhead by centimeters. On his back, Damen grapples for a sufficient handhold in the sheets, unfortunately at the same time Laurent darts his tongue along Damen's teeth, undoes the sleeves of Damen's flight-suit where the top half was tied around his waist.

"Will this fight the– ah, the atrophy?" Damen breathes out, helpless to the hand slowly creeping along the seam of his underclothes. A rush of warmth jolts down his spine at the sucking kiss Laurent puts under his jaw.

"Sure, Damen," he says, and somehow the scathing, teasing tone has Damen's dick half-hard already. "Zero-grav sex _fights_ muscle atrophy. Are you going to do anything?"

"About the zero-grav?" Damen says stupidly, until the hand retreats from his suit and he connects the dots. "Oh, absolutely. Hold on," and even he doesn't immediately realize the necessity of that last statement before Laurent leans back, finds a grip on the low bunk ceiling and tenses, grinding himself down into Damen's lap.

Damen lets out a groan on the way to unzipping Laurent's suit, par for the course, getting distracted on his path down by the way Laurent's thighs bracket Damen's hips so snugly, so strongly. He feels his cock twitch, an ache now between his legs, and reaches for Laurent through his suit where it's starting to tent. Laurent's stomach jumps as Damen traces the outline of him with his palm, the heat between them already making Damen sweat.

Laurent lets out a breath, lowers a hand to pluck at Damen's undershirt. "Off?" he asks, and Damen's chest squeezes at how flushed Laurent looks, how beautiful he is like this. He nods, wriggles his way out of his shirt.

Laurent doesn't make it easy for him, circling his hips on top of Damen's now achingly hard cock, so Damen gasps out, lips curving from pleasure into a smile, "So this is what it's like if you weren't so heavy." He gets poked in the chest for his insolence.

"Didn't I put this one here?" Laurent digs his nail into the scar tissue of the blaster wound, but it's the slowing of his hips over the seam of both their flight-suits that makes Damen hiss, moves his hand to catch Laurent by his ass, holding him there where it's perfect. Laurent smirks.

After a dizzyingly slow couple of thrusts against each other, the urge to touch skin finally builds enough to push Damen into shoving his suit down, Laurent easily raising up to let him deal with the unnecessary material. "Please," Damen says, already reaching into Laurent's suit to pull him out too.

Laurent's jaw drops, eyes squeezing shut, which Damen completely understands. The feeling of their cocks against each other is just divine, better than a lot of things Damen had experienced before meeting Laurent. He gets caught up in the details of Laurent's unreasonably blond eyelashes until Laurent rasps out, almost hushed, "Lube?"

"Yeah," Damen says automatically, reaching for the compartment in the wall before noticing the change in Laurent's expression; still flushed and breathless, but biting his lip in humour. Oh, right. "Well, this is gonna be weird," he says, but dutifully uncaps the bottle and aims it at Laurent's hand.

A lot of it floats off out of the bunk – "You're cleaning that later," Damen grumbles – but Laurent manages to catch the rest in his palm, quickly moving to smear it onto Damen first, his grip tight and fast. A sound makes its way unbidden from Damen's throat, and after capping the lube he drops it – hovers it? – in favour of tugging Laurent's hips closer to his own, wrapping his hand around both of them.

A quick shared look flares warmth in Damen's gut as they start to move together, their hands tangling around both their cocks. Laurent's fingertip dips into Damen's slit on an upstroke, and the sensation has him furrowing his brow in pleasure. Laurent adjusts his hand on the low ceiling, the one pushing him down into his own and Damen's grips, and the image of how strong his shoulders are, how the muscles look under the flight suit. The hair that Damen knows would be peeking out of Laurent's undershirt sleeve if the top of his suit was off, the same colour as the patch by his fist now. 

It's enough to slow his strokes, really listen to the tiny noises emanating from behind Laurent's tightly closed lips, and gradually lose himself in the tension coiling between his legs. He closes his eyes and tries not to think about pre-come floating through the air when–

" _Oof,_ " Laurent's full weight abruptly lands on his groin, swiftly followed by the sounds of any untethered object in the rest of the ship touching back down. Laurent's eyes are comically wide and it pulls a helpless laugh out of Damen, makes him hike his legs up on the bed now that he can use the leverage to send Laurent forward with a groan.

He recovers quickly, to his credit, and kisses Damen, pulsing his hips steadily into their grips, and Damen didn't realize he missed the real weight of him on top of his body until he got it back again, so it's no surprise that when Laurent lets out a quiet gasp, Damen grits out, "I'm coming–"

Laurent's forehead comes to rest on Damen's shoulder, and while they both catch their breath Damen loopily wonders whether he would've preferred to deal with the mess currently on his belly or floating in zero-G. Too dazed to decide, he says, "See, I told you the computer would sort it out."

A breathe-and-you-miss-it brush of lips on the blaster scar, and then Laurent is saying, "You were just gonna come in zero-grav, weren't you. Disgusting."

Damen runs his hand along Laurent's back, but lets him get up when he shifts his weight, swings his legs out the side of the bunk. He comes back with a damp rag from the fresher, and Damen smiles into the peck on the cheek he steals while Laurent leans over him. "Only for you," he says, just to watch Laurent's face twist between exasperation and affection, and Damen thinks he couldn't have picked a better navigator if he tried. 

Well, unless they knew more about mech systems, maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at brigitttt (personal) and/or brigittttoo (side with writing), and also on twitter @brigitttt_ . Comments are much appreciated, thank you for reading!


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